Good morning, friends and readers. I slept in this morning. I had a really good night’s sleep and I woke into a morning that simply could not be prettier. So I spent a lot of time in the back yard with our dogs, and all the while, nature lovingly surrounded us with its incredible, synchronistic sights and sounds. I think that I was experiencing poetry in that moment, with no words, yet it was pure poetry. I think a gift that we all have gotten from this quarantine experience is the gift of more compassion for ourselves. We have been given more “guilt-free” time; this time is free of the judge-y “shoulds”. Why not sleep in? Why not lull around in nature? Why not have an empty calendar open to some spontaneity? It’s like quarantine has given us permission to do things that maybe we could have been doing all along, but we had some kind of irrational judgment that there were better uses of our time.
New readers, Sundays are poetry workshop days. On Sundays, I typically share a poem that I have written and I strongly encourage you to share your poems in my Comments section. This is creative free-flow. I would never allow any negativity in this beautiful, calming Sunday space, so please, please share your profound souls with us. Poetry connects us like not other form, in the written world. It is word music. Today, honestly, my own creative juices aren’t singing, but I have two poems that I will share with you that came to my attention this week. The first poem is by the great author, Kelly Corrigan, and the second poem is a beautiful offering from my friend and poet, Walberto Campos. Enjoy!
To Alessandro
by Kelly Corrigan
I should haven’t been standing so close
this morning at the Safeway.
I thought she was about to leave–
the woman with the good haircut and fancy bag,
her mounds of kale and yogurt and nuts,
enough for another apocalyptic week.
But then the machine betrayed her.
She swiped and inserted and stood back.
She reapproached.
She said “This doesn’t make sense,
I don’t know why this isn’t working,
I just used this card last night.”
Her hands were shaking.
Then Alessandro, benevolent ruler of Safeway line 5, said
“Take your time.
It’s not your fault.
There’s no rush.”
There was though.
There were 11 carts behind me in the pet food aisle and
23 more down the water and sports drink aisle.
People leaning back against crates of Gatorade
shifting from foot to foot
scrolling then staring then
leaning around each other to see what the hold up was.
We were looking to Alessandro and his $11-an-hour army
running distribution and provisions for a nation unnerved:
the twenty-two-year-old at Target wiping down the door
handles and carts,
the thirty-nine-year-old at the farmer’s market who’d rather
be home with her jumpy children, her husband who just lost his job at the corner bistro,
The fifty-five-year-old at CVS who smiles behind his mask as
he hands over your asthma inhaler or anti-anxiety
medication.
In Alessandro’s army,
every soldier seems ready to serve
standing at attention,
saying the thing we most need to hear:
“Take your time,
Its not your fault,
There’s no rush.”

Many blessings to you today, my friends! Enjoy a guilt-free Sunday. Follow your whims!


